


After

by badcircuit



Series: Things that Never Happened [6]
Category: Actor RPF, American Actor RPF
Genre: Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Face-Sitting, Light Bondage, Oral Sex, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-25
Updated: 2015-02-25
Packaged: 2018-03-15 01:17:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3432704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badcircuit/pseuds/badcircuit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If there’s a before, there has to be an after.</p><p>Not exactly beta’d but disturbedbydesign says OMFG yessss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	After

At the awards ceremony, you sit with who you jokingly called "his people" and attempt to make small talk but it's difficult with him next to you, bumping your thigh with his and brushing your bare arm with the fine fabric of his jacket sleeve.  You try to follow the conversations but your eyes keep going to his hands.  They're resting on the table, tan and overwhelmingly masculine against the dainty white tablecloth, mostly still for a change except for his right thumb slowly rubbing his left index finger.  

The finger that nearly killed you with pleasure earlier.

You take a deep drink, almost spilling the whole thing down your front.  Out of the corner of your eye, you see him press his lips together to suppress his grin. When his publicist hands you a napkin so you can pat a few drops of wine from your cleavage, he chuckles shamelessly.

This night is going to be endless.  He's probably going to draw it out just to tease you.

The ceremony begins and you try to pay attention, you really do, but he keeps touching himself and tilting his head from side to side to ease the tension in his neck and licking his lips.  You barely hear a word anyone says all night.  Even when he gets up to present an award, all you can focus on is the way he moves across the stage--the way he moves in general, like he owns the world--and then his mouth as he speaks.  If anyone wants to discuss what he said later, you'll be out of luck since you're too busy thinking about that face ride he promised earlier.

At last, the damn thing is over and you're making your way to the lobby hand-in-hand.  "You ok?" he whispers, his breath warm against your throat.

"Not really," you admit, and he smiles wickedly.

He makes excuses for you with his people and they all express concern but they know.  You might be embarrassed if you could find a single fuck to give but all that matters now is getting him alone. He calls the driver and together you make a detour out of a side door, hopping into the car before it comes to a complete stop.

You're both breathless from laughter and from your escape.  You kick your shoes off while he plucks the bow tie loose and undoes the top two buttons of his shirt.  You can't stop staring at his neck, at the strong pulse beating there. He won't mind if you put your tongue...

"My eyes are up here, sweet thing," he says, his mouth stern but his eyes sparkling with mischief.  

Scooting close, you grab his hands and pull them into your lap.  You trace the prominent veins and manicured-for-the-night nails with your fingers. Turning them over, you lay your hands on his, marveling at how small yours seem in comparison.  "You tormented me all night with these," you say, slapping his palms sharply.

"Hey now," he grumbles, capturing your wrists and caressing the tender skin there with his thumbs until you shiver.  When you look up, what you see in his eyes makes you a little dizzy.  "I haven't even begun to torment you," he says, freeing one wrist to gently tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

With a whimper, your eyes drift close and you lean into his touch, but he pulls his hand away, throwing you off balance so that you have to clutch at his hard thigh to keep from tumbling off the seat.

"Patience."  He smiles and taps you on the nose then drapes his arm over your shoulders and tucks you against his side.

"Psh."  You try to shrug his arm off but he just laughs and draws you closer.  He grips you just so, just hard enough to get you to be still, just the way he knows you like it.  You want to pout and be a hard-ass and make him be the one who's ready to beg but when his hands are on you, it's just not possible.  All you can think of is the way he holds your face when you kiss, the way he guides your arms above your head and pins your wrists to the bed or a wall, how he traces the curve of your waist again and again while you ride him, the way he digs his fingers into your hips when he's about to... "Mmmm," slips out and you squirm in your seat. 

"Shhh," he whispers, covering your mouth.  "The driver's gonna run us off the road trying to see what's going on back here."

You lick his hand and grin with delight at the stunned look on his face.  "Nothing to see here," you call out, laughing at the driver's scandalized expression as his eyes meet yours in the rearview mirror.

"Yet," he says.  Your laugh trails off into a breathy moan as he deftly slips his wet hand down your gown and palms your breast.  "Roll up that partition, brother, and take the long way home."

Once that window goes up, his self control evaporates.

He hauls you half onto his lap and kisses you breathless.  The combination of his soft lips, scruffy face, and demanding tongue have your head spinning. You make a desperate sound and he echoes it, dragging you closer, clutching you tighter.  You writhe in his arms, restless with desire.  You mess up his hair, tug at his immaculate suit, slip your fingers in the spaces between buttons to get to bare skin.  Enough of this, you think, laying your hand on his crotch and feeling him get harder.

Groaning, he sucks your tongue and then breaks the kiss.  You're both panting now.  You stare at each other for a long moment before he breaks eye contact to look down at your breasts.  In all of the tussling, your gown has slipped down and your nipples are nearly exposed.  He licks his lips and his cock pulses against your palm.  You give it a gentle squeeze.

"You want that," he says, not asking.  He's beyond teasing, thank god.

You make a sound of acknowledgement, just this side of a whine.  His smile makes your stomach flutter and your pussy wetter.

He pushes you from his lap, not suddenly but steadily, down onto the limo floor. The mats are thick and plush beneath your knees and you wonder briefly why you've never done this before and what it says about you that you feel absolutely no shame about doing it now.  With a shrug, you run your hands up his thighs, pausing when you reach his tented crotch, wanting to do a little teasing of your own.  

"Fuck that," you say and he laughs as you fumble his pants open.  Leaning forward, you nuzzle his cotton-covered cock with your nose, inhaling deeply. His scent has the same effect on you as a touch or a whispered dirty promise and he knows it.  If you looked up, he'd be grinning smugly.

"Go on, be a good girl now," he murmurs.  One hand is on your bare shoulder, the other on the back of your neck, coaxing you closer.  When your fingers go to his waistband, he lifts his ass for you to work his pants down just enough to free his cock. 

It fills your hand and then your mouth as you take it in.  This is what you'd been thinking about doing earlier when he'd been taunting you at the awards ceremony, fantasizing about running your tongue along each blood-engorged vein.  You do it.  You watch him watching you do it.  "Fuck," he mouths, guiding his cock back to your mouth and rubbing the slippery tip against your lips.  You feel your wetness begin to trickle down your thigh.

Sometimes a blowjob is a bit of chore, even with the hottest dude.  This is not one of those times.  You're focused, swirling your tongue, feeling the bump of every one of those fucking veins, taking note of every sigh and hitch of his breath, determined to make him feel as good with your mouth as you ever have with your pussy.  He's thrusting now and the rhythm and sound of him fucking your mouth is hypnotic.  You'd been holding his hips but now you reach around and get two handfuls of his glorious ass.  Your hair has come down and he brushes it out of your face so he can watch you.

"Jesus, are you touching yourself?" he says as you moan.  You most definitely are and have been for some time now.  You're so excited the carpet beneath you has got to be wet.  

He inhales sharply and lets out a shaky breath then does it again and holds it, a sign you know very well.   You suck harder and move a hand to his balls, easing a finger lower.  He calls your name, a warning, then he's there and you swallow every salty sweet drop.

You realize that the car isn't moving anymore and that you're sitting outside his place.  "When did we get here?" you ask, watching him zip back up and run his fingers through his hair.  You didn't come yet and the sight makes your pussy heavy with want.

"'Bout ten minutes ago."  He smiles, helping you up off the floor and wiping at your smudged lipstick with his thumb.  He knocks on the partition and the driver hops out to open the door.  He gets out first and offers his hand, such a gentleman.  You hope he won't be for long.

The front door has barely closed before he's got you face-first against the wall. Hiking your gown up, he pulls your panties to the side and slides a finger along your slick lips.  "So ready for me," he says, nuzzling that tender spot where neck and shoulder meet.  You can only moan in response.  He presses his body to yours and not surprisingly, he's already hard again.  He takes his hand away, lets your gown drop back down, and turns you around, his big hands cupping your shoulders.  "I did promise you something earlier though, didn't I?  What was it again?"

In the bedroom, you start to take your gown off but he stops you.  "I wanted the dress on, remember?"  You nod mutely, watching avidly as he strips down and gets on the bed.  "You know where the rope is.  Or handcuffs.  I did say it was your choice."

Your preference is rope, a pretty blue jute, which is hard to get tied right when you've got the horny shakes but finally it's done.  You step back to take him in, aggressively naked and hard all over, his muscles jumping and his cock bobbing, beckoning you.

"Am I riding this first or that?" you ask, running your finger along his cock and then his on-again, off-again mustache.

"Again, sex fairy's choice.  Just take those panties off so I've got room to work."  He smacks his lips and grinds his hips, fucking air.  "C'mon."

You peel your soaked panties off and climb up, straddling his chest and then his head.  You left enough slack for him to spread his arms out of the way but now he brings them up and squeezes your hips.  You tuck the gown's skirt into your bodice and settle in.  "Okay, giddy up."

After biting your thigh playfully, he begins.  Things get serious quickly.  Once his tongue touches your clit, neither of you are in the mood for any more shit talking.  He licks and you tremble, trying very hard to be still.  He sucks and you break, reaching down to grab a handful of hair and bracing yourself  with the other hand on the wall so you can fuck his face.  His moans tell you how much he likes that.  And he's not still either.  The bed is shaking from his air humping and you're afraid he's going to rub his wrists raw.  It's all so ridiculously hot. You feel your orgasm barreling down on you, like a boulder crashing down a steep hill, taking out everything in its path, then you're there, completely mindless for a few minutes as he keeps sucking and sucking...

Your fingers are working to free him from the rope before your brain has even started fully functioning again.  Your body is running the show now and it wants him inside while your pussy is still throbbing.  You're already scooting backwards, wiggling your ass around to get him in the right spot when he gets loose and jackknifes up, wraps his hands around your waist and settles you firmly on his cock.

"God, I can feel that," he says, sliding his hands down to grip your ass.

You circle your hips faster, clutching his shoulders and kissing away the shiny wetness from his lips.  "Is it good?"

"So, so good."  He rolls you both over and takes control, his thrusts picking up speed and force.  "Wrap your legs around me.  Fuck, just like that."

His last four words are punctuated by snaps of his hips and then he comes.

He collapses beside you and you snuggle close, throwing a leg over his and laying a hand over his pounding heart.  Your gown is a sweaty, sticky ruin but it was totally worth it.

"Whew.  You rode me hard and put me away wet, little girl."  He huffs a laugh. 

"Mmm," you purr, twirling his chest hair.  "So when's the next awards ceremony?"

**Author's Note:**

> Bless Beyonce for making Drunk in Love and Partition. :)


End file.
